


We're Expecting A Baby, But It Might Be A Velociraptor

by FirozTaverbi



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Body Horror, M/M, Mpreg, Unreliable Narrator, misogynistic narrator, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirozTaverbi/pseuds/FirozTaverbi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vexen appears to be pregnant, much to Marluxia's surprise (and horror). Something has to be done. </p>
<p>// I wrote this a few years ago after being challenged to write a genuine mpreg. Whether or not I succeeded is subjective. Happy 411 day!</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Expecting A Baby, But It Might Be A Velociraptor

In the Grey Room, there was the usual collection of Nobodies: Luxord and Xigbar chatting on one of the rock-hard sofas, Demyx achieving the impressive feat of lounging on another, his sitar across his lap as he strummed out idle tunes that twanged in the air. However, missing from the shady corner was the one person Marluxia had been hoping to see: Vexen. The Chilly Academic had been missing for days - weeks, even - and although it would have been uncharacteristic of Marluxia to worry, he was… rationally concerned. Vexen had not been completing missions for some time (attested to by the fact that his throne had been sinking steadily lower and lower in the Place Where Nothing Gathers), and now he didn't seem to be doing anything at all.

In fact, Vexen had been behaving in an aberrant manner ever since Marluxia had accompanied him on a mission offworld roughly a month ago, when a run-in with a particularly nasty insect-like Heartless had resulted in both of them returning rather the worse for wear. The first issue was Vexen's lack of activity (give the man a checklist, the others often joked, and he'd do _anything_ for you); the second notable difference was that Vexen had always been very accommodating to Marluxia, but recently he'd barely even acknowledged the lesser Nobody in the corridors, let alone invited him into his bed.

Marluxia turned from the Grey Room, feeling ghosts of disappointment fester in his stomach. He'd tried knocking on the door to Vexen's quarters, of course, but there was never a reply, and the scientist was notoriously cranky about anyone daring to disturb his work in the laboratories (Marluxia had found this out the hard way when he turned up one day with a throbbing erection only to be told in no uncertain terms – and quite a lot of ice – that Vexen was busy and he could deal with the problem by himself). But Marluxia decided that this time his rational concern ran rather deeper than sexual arousal, and it was time to cordially check that Vexen was all right, even if it meant trespassing.

He made his way down to the laboratories, but his knock heralded no answer. He cautiously portalled inside (who knew what kind of volatile experiments the Chilly Academic ran down here), but the only movements were those of Heartless subjects rattling their cages. Disturbed by their chaotic yet rhythmic actions, Marluxia left hastily. Light was emanating from the cracks beneath the door to Vexen's room, so Marluxia knew it was occupied even though Vexen made no reply when the Assassin knocked.

"Four, I know you're in there."

Marluxia didn't normally call Vexen by his rank, but he knew the scientist liked the formality, so he humoured him just this once.

"Leave me alone." Vexen snapped back almost instantly, but his voice sounded different, his normal (and often aggravating) inflections flattened out into a smooth monotone.

"I'm coming in."

Unsurprised to find the door locked, Marluxia opened a portal to cross the few feet into Vexen's small en-suite. Marluxia was so used to this room, but he had not seen it in such a mess before – with such an overwhelming stench of unwashed body, only the bedside lamp switched on and Vexen hunched over on the bed, deep shadows under his eyes and both hands clutching a grossly distended stomach.

Marluxia may have been a Nobody, but repulsion was still something he was definitely able to feel. Forgetting the door was locked, he tried to back out through it, only for his body to clack unpleasantly against it as Vexen's acidic green eyes focused on him.

"I told you to go away," Vexen said, his voice harsh and hollow. "I told you to leave."

Marluxia struggled to form words, his mind clamped too tightly by horror and his throat too tight to allow sound to pass. He could only stare as Vexen's hands grasped more tightly his bulging stomach.

Vexen lurched suddenly forward and stumbled off the bed, his posture pulled down by his distorted figure and his footsteps unsteady on the unwashed clothes and crumpled papers littering the floor.

"Get out," he said again and again, gesturing wildly, his arm catching the hem of his open shirt and revealing discoloured, stretched skin; he reached for the key, which he had not even removed from the lock, and fumbled gracelessly with it before finally managing to unlock the door and throw Marluxia out.

The Assassin stood still for several moments after Vexen slammed the door shut on him, then as gracefully as his name would suggest turned around, leaned against the wall, and vomited.

 

\---

 

Marluxia humbly chose to fulfil Vexen's wishes, and did not seek the scientist out further: however, Vexen found him a few days later, arriving at his quarters looking rather less dishevelled than Marluxia had last seen him. Back in his standard issue Organisation coat which only strained slightly around his stomach, the Chilly Academic seemed to have taken great care to hide his new disfigurement.

"Look, Eleven," he said with his usual nasal tone, "I need to speak to you. To apologise, and..." he paused momentarily - "And to explain."

Marluxia wordlessly let him inside.

"My behaviour the other day was highly irregular," Vexen admitted as he made his way to Marluxia's bed, his footsteps slow and heavy, and sat down, hands once again gravitating towards his stomach, "I understand that. I was not..." he searched for the right words, "In a state of equilibrium."

"Evidently not," Marluxia agreed. He busied himself with attending to his many plants (he could make them grow strong and wild with just the flick of a hand, of course, but it was more satisfying this way, somehow) as Vexen unzipped his coat, pretending that he couldn't see the exposed, bulging flesh.

"My intention wasn't to shock you."

Marluxia felt his fingers tighten around his watering can. He tried to think about Vexen's body the way he remembered it, his stomach smooth and taut without being muscular, what little fat the man possessed spread across his generous frame.

"You're the best doctor I know," he said at length; "Can't you fix this?"

"This isn't something that can just be _fixed_ , Marluxia!" Vexen snapped, his _equilibrium_ temporarily disturbed, but he soon smoothed his ruffled feathers with an agitated sigh.

Marluxia finally willed himself to turn and look at his occasional lover, with those same blazing green eyes dulled lately by tiredness, the oversized, bony hands: and the bulge in his stomach, as though he were experiencing some gross parody of pregnancy.

"It's _grotesque_ ," he blurted out, unable to contain himself. Vexen glared, scowling, his hands massaging the white skin of his stomach. "You look as though you're _expecting_."

To Marluxia's surprise - and horror - Vexen's flushed hotly, breaking eye contact to stare with false interest at the patterns of Marluxia's quilt.

"You're such a fool, Eleven."

Marluxia took in Vexen's hollowed cheeks and eyes heavy from sleepless, uncomfortable nights, his awkward posture, and said, "But you're a man. I know that better than anyone." And then, when Vexen remained conspicuously silent, "It's not biologically possible."

"Neither are organisms without hearts."

Marluxia couldn't concentrate on his plants any more. He left them to cling to their supports in their quest to reach the artificial lighting of his room, and joined Vexen on the bed.

"I didn't do this, did I?"

"I'm many things, Marluxia, but promiscuous is not one of them."

Marluxia forced himself to look at Vexen's baby bump. It was not an easy sight to stomach.

"How...?"

"I hypothesise that the Darkness played a significant role in the preconditions of conception," Vexen said, sounding more and more like himself as he habitually slipped into convoluted language; "The exact details of which, however, still elude me. I intend to perform further research during the pregnancy."

" _During_?" Marluxia echoed disbelievingly. His eyes had already wandered to the wallpaper. "You're not going to terminate it?"

"It's our _baby_ ," Vexen spat, slapping Marluxia's arm in disgust. "Of course not."

Marluxia could not bring himself to look again at Vexen's turgid stomach. Had he a heart, it would certainly have sunk; instead, he just felt that familiar curl of emptiness in his chest which came with displeasure. His partner's stomach had swollen unusually quickly, the bump growing visible in a matter of weeks, but he had no idea how long this was going to last, and when the baby was born… he could only assume that sex was going to be off the cards for some time.

"It's unnatural."

" _You're_ unnatural."

Marluxia tried to reason himself into supporting Vexen, but he could feel only disgust and revulsion. There was no way anything that made Vexen that shape was going to come out like a round, cuddly baby that would gurgle sweetly and inspire Marluxia's (fairly non-existent) paternal instincts.

"I don't want anything to do with that thing."

Vexen hesitated for a moment before pushing himself to his feet, forcing himself once more into the restrictive cut of his Organisation coat.

"I suspected you would say as much," he said sourly as he made his way to the door, and Marluxia did not see the man again for several more long weeks.

 

\---

 

Things changed when that sly rat Zexion turned up at Marluxia's door one afternoon to state dispassionately that Vexen was requesting his audience, but, given his current physical condition, was in no fit state to be making such visits himself. Marluxia arrived at Vexen's quarters to find them sparkling once more, Vexen propped up with pillows in his bed with a book in hand, looking much healthier than he had before this whole furore began. On a chair at his side sat Lexaeus, also quietly immersed in some book or other: he acknowledged Marluxia's entrance and stood to offer the pair some privacy.

Marluxia looked around the room in disbelief.

"You've been looking after him all this time?"

"Unfortunately, they had no choice, since the child's father refuses to take responsibility for his actions," Vexen said snidely without looking up from his book.

Lexaeus was gone. Feeling numb, at least more numb than usual, Marluxia took the tall man's place at Vexen's bed. The chair was still warm, its plush lining dented from its previous occupant's weight.

"It can't be _mine_ ," Marluxia said quietly after a few seconds of silence, inspecting the bottles of pills and strange medicines on Vexen's bedside table. "It doesn't make any sense. It's not as though our…alliance is unique within the Organisation." He was referring, of course, to the not inconsiderable frequency of homosexual acts occurring within the Castle That Never Was' walls. "If this has happened to you, then why not... Zexion, or Demyx? Why not _me_?"

Vexen sniffed, as though Marluxia's crude concerns were beneath him.

"I can only theorise that it is simply a matter of statistical probability." When Marluxia did not continue he added rather less scientifically: "It's no secret that your…libido... exceeds that of most other couples in this situation. The probability, therefore, given other factors, was never in my favour."

Marluxia raised his eyebrows. Even when they were alone, Vexen took care not to mention the fact that his _libido_ wasn't exactly equal to that of a pious nun either.

"Presumably others have been warned of the risk," he said finally when any other options eluded him. "I assume that simple contraceptives will prevent further..." he chose his words carefully- "Accidents."

"I can only assume." Vexen agreed. He sighed, setting down his book for his hands to once again find his flushed, tight skin. The bulge had been covered by a sheet, but now he pushed it away, revealing a rounder, softer curve than Marluxia had remembered. Also a considerably larger one, but at least this time he was able to control the gag reflex that came with seeing his lover's disfigurement.

"Do you know anything about its development?" He asked, looking hastily away. "You had mentioned your plans to run tests..." He trailed off uncertainly, hoping Vexen would pick up and continue. Thankfully, the scientist took only a moment to preen himself before reaching over for a journal that also lay on his bedside table, flicking through it as he spoke.

"Obviously this event is, as far as we can ascertain, unprecedented, and none of us had ever exactly been experts on pregnancy-" the word made revulsion again rise in Marluxia's throat as he was forced to remember exactly what they were dealing with- "Since in Radiant Garden such medical cases were always delegated to the nurses and midwives. However, a few simple routine diagnoses confirmed that the child is, as we are, lacking in a heart, and - we assume - is developing differently to a human foetus."

Marluxia nodded, distractedly. He could only guess at what "developing differently" could mean, since Vexen seemed unwilling to divulge further information. His imagination conjured up a mutated heartless of a child, vile and loathsome.

"Obviously the delivery will need to be performed through Caesarian section," he continued, tone of voice suggesting that he was displeased by Marluxia's less than welcoming reaction to this news. "I have calculated that the due date will be around three months from now. I shan't be bed bound for all that time, of course." He stroked his stomach again, automatically, affectionately. "The first few months of development are the most… disruptive. I daresay I shall even be able to complete the occasional reconnaissance mission before birth."

"Nobody should see you in this state," Marluxia burst out before he could stop himself. Vexen glared at him, lividly.

"This is our _child_ you are so casually insulting!" He snapped angrily. "I understand that you are emotionally incapacitated, Marluxia, but currently I am _not_ , and you are doing _nothing_ to ease the difficulty of this already distressing period!"

This tirade caught Marluxia off guard, its revelations catching up with him too quickly for his mind to adequately process.

"You can feel _emotions_?"

Vexen glowered, but soon returned to his journal, as though seeking _equilibrium_ again in its crisp pages.

"My body has, in response to the pregnancy, resumed producing certain hormones. So, _yes_ , I can _feel_. I assume that such emotions will subside once the pregnancy is complete, but of course only time will tell."

Marluxia forced himself to take a step back, to assess the situation with the same cool calculation that he had always prided himself upon in strategy and combat. This turn of events was no different, really; there was an enemy, and it required eradication: the only difference was that the enemy was currently festering inside his lover, who was apparently prepared to defend it to considerable extent. Marluxia could not see the baby as anything else. He was a hunter, an _assassin_ \- fatherhood would not have come naturally to him even as a somebody; now, without even a heart to guide him, he could only feel the shadows of hatred for the foul creature that had sullied both Vexen's body and his brilliant mind.

But he could play along. Dote upon Vexen as the parasite grew stronger, destroy it with a clean sweep of his scythe the moment it separated from its host. Vexen would come to understand: he had to. Marluxia didn't care if the child had been born from his actions, his genetic code - just as he refused Vexen access to his data to create replicas, this copy would also be destroyed. Marluxia knew that he was dangerous. Anything that bore such a relation to him would be equally deadly. A threat. Competition.

So he gave up protesting, simply saying "I see," in a flat tone until he had constructed a better visage with which to calm Vexen. "I'll do whatever I can to assist."

Vexen nodded, fooled.

"Good."

"Who knows about this?" Marluxia asked after another long silence. Vexen glanced up, the bitter hatred lost from his eyes.

"Yourself. Lexaeus and Zexion, obviously. Xemnas is aware of the situation, so I assume that Saix is also party to that information. Xigbar certainly has his suspicions." He ticked members off the list as he ran through them. "And Larxene stumbled across me a few weeks ago."

"She hadn't mentioned it to me," Marluxia said sourly. "I'd have expected her to take pleasure in rubbing this all in my face."

Vexen just shrugged.

"I think she has her own problems to deal with. With the correct anatomy in addition to a promiscuous lifestyle, the odds are not exactly in her favour, either."

Marluxia could not imagine Larxene, a violent and cruel woman with instincts about as far from a mother's as could be, being pregnant. It didn't seem physically possible. Then again, he had previously been so certain that Vexen's masculinity would protect him from childbirth that he had not even entertained such a wild possibility - and look where he was now.

"Ah."

"Time will tell," was all that Vexen said on that matter. And then he announced that he was tired and needed to rest: Marluxia made to take his leave when he was invited to join Vexen for the night. His first reaction was to politely decline the offer before retreating to his own quarters, but Vexen insisted. He found himself stripping down to his underwear and lying down close to his lover, who, quite uncharacteristically, rolled onto his side to rest one arm across Marluxia's chest, head tucked into the crook of his neck. Marluxia lay awake in the darkness, feeling the child kick and twitch under Vexen's skin as the Chilly Academic slept on.

 

\---

 

A few days later, Vexen was seen traversing the endless corridors of the Castle That Never Was, his standard issue coat let out with stretches of elastic around the stomach, giving him the curious appearance of a Victorian lady with her bustle on backwards. Marluxia, often accompanying him, found himself surprised at how little teasing they suffered for their indignities; then again, on reflection, Vexen left in his wake the potent threat that this could have been any one of those engaging in private, illicit activities, a threat which had the bonus of keeping most tongues in check. Larxene, especially, would shrink away like a frightened animal whenever Vexen was near, busying herself with activities of little importance so as to not have to face a conversation with the pregnant man.

"Just look at him," she whispered to Marluxia one afternoon as they kept themselves busy in the Grey Room. "That could have been me. Could have been either of us."

Marluxia shuddered.

"Don't remind me."

He was really beginning to feel the frustration that came with continued lack of suitable sexual outlets, but he wasn't going to risk intercourse, not until the true threat of pregnancy was established. Nobody was. It was contributing to noticeably high tensions in the Castle.

"What scares me the most," Larxene continued in the same hushed voice, "Is what it's doing to _Vexen_. All he cares about is the baby now. Did you see how he lost it with Demyx after he asked whether the baby was going to come out of his ass the other day? I mean, Demyx is a moron, but who hasn't wondered over the technicalities of childbirth when the mother is a man?"

"Caesarian," Marluxia said dully. He didn't want to think about technicalities.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I think I'd go with that option too, if push came to shove. Literally. Ugh. Wrong figure of speech entirely. But have you seen the size of that thing?"

Marluxia forced himself to glance in Vexen's direction: the nobody was sitting with a poker-straight back on one of the sofas across the room, quietly discussing some thing or other with an admirably straight-faced Xigbar. Somebody had since added more elastic to his coat, so it curved over the baby bump then bunched back in around his hips. Marluxia closed his eyes and tried to remember the Vexen before this whole mess, a more elegant, elfin figure, not this shadow of a man reduced to simpering motherhood. He only hoped that Vexen would return to his senses once the baby had been born. He wasn't sure if he could cope with bending to his every ridiculous whim any more.

He didn't say anything in reply to Larxene, at least not on the subject of Vexen.

"You know, I think I have a few extra missions on my schedule. I can fit another one in today if I hurry." He said this loudly enough for Vexen to glance in his direction at the sound of his voice, as though only noticing now that Marluxia was in the room at all.

"Catch you later," Larxene said, voice saturnine, and herself headed in the opposite direction as Marluxia checked in with a blank-faced Saix for his missions.

 

\---

 

Marluxia found himself accosted by an even fatter Vexen just a week later. He'd been spending his first free afternoon in weeks in his extensive gardens, tending to each blooming flower with a tenderness that Vexen dryly told him he was expecting to see once the baby arrived. Just like every one of Vexen's demands, Marluxia's response was the same:

"I'll try my best."

"Good," Vexen said, helping himself to a wrought-iron garden chair. He sat heavily, gracelessly, already out of breath. "I know responses to this have been mixed, but at least I can count on you."

"Of course," Marluxia heard himself saying. "I'll do whatever I can for my child, you know that."

Vexen hummed affirmatively, unzipping his coat to let his stomach free. Beneath it he was wearing a maternity shirt which fitted him poorly, sagging around his chest and giving his waist an unflattering curve.

"I performed the first ultrasound today," he said quite suddenly, taking Marluxia by surprise. "I feel that, as the father, you should have the honour of being the first to see." And he pulled a few folded sheets of paper from his pocket and handed them over.

Dutifully, Marluxia opened the papers out, inspecting the negative images printed on them. The blurry photographs made his mouth feel suddenly dry, his gut curl with the same revulsion he had been working so hard to repress. The baby - no, the _parasite_ , it could be nothing else - wasn't even remotely human, its long limbs and oversized claws far more reminiscent of the Heartless Marluxia fought on a daily basis. And it was large, too: the ultrasound only captured a portion of the creature growing inside Vexen's body, more extremities disappearing into the scientist's chest cavity and wrapping around his clearly visible internal organs. Of course, Vexen had no womb in which to contain a child: the thing was simply growing inside him anyway.

Marluxia quickly decided that he was not going to have sex until his heart was fully restored and any connections to the Darkness fully severed. Swallowing thickly, he passed the ultrasound back, unable to look at the gruesome images for a second longer. Wasn't Vexen horrified by this as well?

Vexen took his time folding the pictures back up, casting a gloved finger over what might have been a face. And then he said something that Marluxia didn't think would ever leave his lips, words that jarred the assassin deep inside his hollow core.

"Isn't she cute?"

 

\---

 

Weeks passed. Marluxia worried, about Vexen's wellbeing, about the parasite, about how it could have been conceived and about how it could be destroyed. There was no way to kill it without Vexen's consent - Marluxia had attempted to explain that the "baby" was going to cause nothing but harm, only to receive a shield in his face and Vexen's displeasure for a long few days - but as it grew Marluxia became increasingly concerned that it was going to kill the scientist before they managed to get it out. Vexen was no help whatsoever, becoming more and more preoccupied with the welfare of his precious child every day. Marluxia tried to find out who was to perform the Caesarian, in the hopes of convincing them to kill the thing as soon as they pulled it out, but Vexen wouldn't say. He was "still deciding". Still deciding, Marluxia's ass. He knew that the assassin was up to something. Knew his “baby” was under threat.

Still, Marluxia couldn't help but feel as though the silhouette of the creature he'd seen in the ultrasound was familiar. At least six limbs, what he could only assume was a long and spiked tail, jagged skin… surely any child of two Nobodies would simply resemble, at worst, a dusk? The monstrosity inside Vexen bore no relationship to either of its parents, their subordinate Heartless or their powers. And yet, it was familiar.

Marluxia, back in his garden where the trees and flowers held no grotesque surprises for him, cast his mind back to the first time he saw Vexen with his distended stomach. He'd not seen his lover for some weeks previously, not since that disastrous mission with the---

Marluxia flew into a portal, nearly losing his balance as the Darkness span around him, only managing to fall out by Lexaeus' floor on both feet by some amazing fluke of dexterity. Vexen's old colleagues were reading together in Lexaeus' lounge, looking at him without surprise as he burst in through the door.

"Ah, Marluxia. We expected you," Zexion said, beckoning for the younger Nobody to take a seat. Marluxia rolled his eyes, not oblivious to the slight wrinkle of Zexion's nose.

"I need to talk to you about Vexen."

"Hm." Zexion looked as though he highly doubted that Marluxia would visit them under any other circumstances, an assumption which was probably correct.

"That's not my child," Marluxia said quickly, trying to align his thoughts with two pairs of eyes watching him expectantly. "It's a parasite, a Heartless one. The last mission that Vexen went on before the…" he graced the infection with the name Vexen chose for it: "Pregnancy... was a joint excursion with me. We were apprehended by a powerful Heartless, which ultimately we were unable to defeat. I don't know its type, exactly, but it resembled a large scorpion or some other insectoid-"

"We saw the ultrasound," Zexion interrupted, pouring Marluxia a cup of tea from the pretty china teapot on the coffee table. "It certainly makes more sense than Vexen's tale of biologically impossible conception. I'm surprised you didn't make the connection sooner."

He said this with such a disparaging tone that Marluxia bristled, remembering exactly why he disliked the Cloaked Schemer so much.

"Look, I've been somewhat preoccupied, you have to forgive me any oversights. Besides," he quickly continued, "We currently have no way of eliminating the current threat, certainly without causing grave damage to Vexen. I assume that one or other of you will perform the surgery. If Vexen doesn't recover mentally as soon as that thing leaves his body, one of us is going to have to stop him defending it. And if it's anything like its father, it's going to be powerful."

Thankfully, Zexion - after a brief glance at Lexaeus who spoke wordlessly to him - nodded in agreement.

"Agreed. It won't be easy if Vexen continues to be a complicating factor. And evidence suggests that the Heartless' influence is only growing stronger."

"Is this precedented?" Marluxia couldn't help but ask. "Heartless infesting one another, or even reproducing in this manner. I know the stronger Heartless are capable of summoning shadows, but I haven't seen anything like this."

Zexion glanced again at Lexaeus, who shook his head.

"We have no data on the matter. The Heartless you fought was probably exceedingly rare. I can only assume..." He paused for a moment; "It was presumably waiting for a host strong enough to contain its offspring." He obviously caught the surprise in Marluxia's expression, because he added: "And Vexen, believe it or not, is a strong being. As much as evidence suggests to the contrary."

Marluxia couldn't help the curiosity.

"Why not me?"

This time, it was Lexaeus who spoke.

"You're faster."

Marluxia recalled the image of Vexen lumbering about with his inflamed belly, snapping at anyone who dared suggest his child was not the beautiful daughter he had imagined for himself in his affected stupor, and the agony that could only follow when the parasite was finally removed. Thank the Darkness he was faster.

"So how do we deal with the threat?"

The three of them, sitting together with cups of tea and clear minds, considered this, the plight of their stricken comrade, so sick he was unaware even of his own illness, and finally Zexion looked up with his one clear eye and said;

"I suppose we'll just have to wait."

 

\---

 

Marluxia didn't want to wait. Marluxia wanted to act immediately, rip that bastard parasite from Vexen's body before it could grow any larger and more grotesque, have his lover back to his usual self and back in his bed; but Vexen's suspicions grew paramount, so much so that he never allowed them to be alone together, never letting his guard down long enough for Marluxia to attack. In fact, after a week Marluxia was hardly catching glimpses of Vexen at all, seeing him only at their routine meetings in the Place Where Nothing Gathers. Looking down on the academic, Marluxia could see his stomach growing, the elastic sewn into the hems of his coat stretching until it obviously caused Vexen pain, then replaced again by wider fabric.

Lexaeus and Zexion were right, of course. There was nothing to do but watch Vexen’s infection develop, hope that it wouldn’t destroy the Academic before they destroyed it. But that didn’t mean that Marluxia couldn’t resent them for forcing his hand as though he could have saved Vexen sooner without them.

He barely listened to Xemnas’ endless lectures any more: he would spend the wasted minutes watching Vexen twitch restlessly, his scythe poised in the darkness for him to summon in the blink of an eye. The parasite was stealing every ounce of life from the Chilly Academic, rendering his skin sallow and features sunken. Marluxia could hardly stand to see Vexen so hideous, knowing as he did the simple, brutal solution. The others whispered behind his backs, which infuriated him. Nobody spoke of Vexen's true ailment, at least not in his presence: so rumours abounded as to how exactly the man had come to have such a curve to his stomach, most of them involving highly-exaggerated accounts of sordid trysts on beds of roses (ouch!) or under laboratory strip lights. Why the others didn't seem to think that they could have conducted their affairs in bed, Marluxia didn't know. Perhaps the allure of a juicy story was no competition for practical logic, even for a Nobody.

To their credit, Lexaeus and Zexion - the last people Vexen seemed to trust - were keeping a close eye on the threat, tricking Vexen into offering up his body for routine inspections "for the health of mother and child". Marluxia was not allowed to observe, but they kept him updated, usually on the health of not the parasite but Vexen's increasingly endangered internal organs.

"At the rate the Heartless is growing," Zexion told him one afternoon in the Grey Room, "Vexen is going to sustain serious damage to his lungs in the next month. So, as I am sure you will be pleased to hear, we may have to act prematurely after all. For Vexen's sake."

But he didn't look at Marluxia as he spoke, focusing instead on some middle distance that was, perhaps, easier to lie to. The longer everyone simply stood idle, the greater the probability that Vexen's "pregnancy" would break him beyond repair. So why not act now? No matter how Marluxia approached the situation, there was no way that the Heartless was going to leave Vexen's body painlessly; Marluxia was too intimately acquainted with Vexen's orifices to even begin to think otherwise.

So he sought out Lexaeus. Marluxia didn't trust anybody, of course - but if he had to make a choice, he knew he'd pick the Silent Hero. It was hard to find him without his little rat in tow, but after some careful planning and good luck he caught Lexaeus just leaving the training room.

"Ah, Five. May we speak?"

Lexaeus looked at him as though he had been expecting just this request, and silently led him to a quiet room with somewhere to sit down and talk.

"Tell me what's going on with Vexen. What's really going on. And why I'm being kept in the dark."

Lexaeus looked away, at the elaborate architecture, all executed in shades of grey.

"An assessment of the situation was made," he said at length. "The Superior decided that as the majority of Vexen's research is complete, the Organisation would derive greater benefit from a powerful Heartless under their command."

Marluxia thought about this.

"But that thing is going to kill him."

"Yes."

And in that instant, Marluxia felt the fire of something that was almost emotion ignite inside him: anger, hatred… fear. Vexen was going to die. That was the whole plan all along, to let Vexen become ever more deranged and finally succumb to the parasite inside him, useful now only as a vessel for something more homicidal, more exciting. Marluxia had never been so enraged, at the shallowness of the men around him, at the fact that he had not even been party to this information: and for Vexen, poor sick Vexen, who might have been ageing and insufferable and cantankerous but was still _his_ , which meant that nobody else, not Xemnas and definitely not the progeny of some rabid Heartless, was allowed to decide what happened to him.

"Xemnas decided that this information would make you too… volatile," Lexaeus said. "Your alliances with Vexen are hardly a secret, after all." And he pushed Marluxia back down onto his chair as he noticed the Assassin rising in fury. "Don't be brash. It is for the greater good."

"But don't you _care_?!" Marluxia spluttered indignantly, slapping Lexaeus' hand away. The words left his mouth before his mind even had a chance to process them, and terrified him in their spontaneity.

Lexaeus looked at him with eyes that were not cold or cruel but instead filled with silent understanding. Perhaps not Vexen, perhaps not Vexen, but maybe a smaller man with a silver tongue and hair to match. Maybe caring wasn't so unknowable after all.

"Don't do anything illogical," he commanded, and was gone. So Marluxia calmly adjusted his definition of "illogical" and rose to find Vexen.

 

\---

 

"I thought I told you not to come in here."

In the end, Marluxia waited until evening to apprehend Vexen, guessing - correctly - that he would be easier prey if he had already settled in for the night. So he had knocked politely on Vexen's door around eleven o'clock, then taken a portal inside almost as soon as Vexen told him in no uncertain terms to leave.

"Vexen, we need to talk. You know that as well as I do."

Vexen was immediately defensive, the air around Marluxia dropping by several degrees as soon as he opened his mouth, the Academic's limbs curled possessively around his hideous stomach.

"I will be fully prepared to speak with you as soon as you accept your proper responsibilities-!"

"Vexen, they're going to kill you."

True, almost. But Marluxia needed to stun Vexen into silence: now was no time for nuance.

"- _What_?"

"Vexen," he began again, his voice matching perfectly the tone of an exasperated, desperate man, "They don't care about you. None of them do. The chances that you're going to survive this ordeal are slim. You of all people must understand how risky such…unusual medical occurrences can be. And, Vexen, they're not going to even try to keep you alive. You've outlived your usefulness to them. To Xemnas. All he cares about is your daughter, and what she might be capable of."

Vexen's expression changed from one of irritation to disbelief, incredulity, and finally downright fear. Marluxia took it upon himself to soothe his ailing lover, joining him on the bed to stroke his hair and place a comforting hand on his distended stomach.

"But what..." Words were failing Vexen. "But how can that..."

"If I had only known," Marluxia said sadly, shaking his head. "But the Superior considered me too much of a risk to know his true motives. It's no secret that I would..." he really hoped that the Heartless had so much sway over Vexen that he would come to remember none of this- "Go to significant lengths to defend you."

"So I… I may not survive the birth? Even through surgery?"

"Regrettably. Lexaeus and Zexion discovered that it- _she_ has already done significant damage to your vital organs. Perhaps earlier intervention might have…but I expect that it's too late now."

Vexen was very still.

"Oh," he said, looking down at his belly. He placed a shaking hand over Marluxia's, and there they stayed for several long minutes. Finally he spoke, a pain all too genuine in his voice. "You'll look after her for me, won't you? You won't let them use her. Not like…not like they, not like Roxas or..." he trailed off. Marluxia glanced away momentarily, needing brief repose in order to stop himself vomiting at this pathetic display.

"Of course," he promised hollowly. "Of course."

Vexen nodded numbly, then after a few moments lost all dignity by leaning into Marluxia's shoulder and sobbing for what seemed like an eternity. Marluxia would have much preferred not to have been subjected to Vexen's messy recounting of his entire life - including great regrets, past loves and scientific breakthroughs he had been teetering on the edge of before the disaster of heartlessness struck. But at least Vexen had not expected this trick at all. He fell for it all, letting Marluxia close enough to the parasite to execute his plan: to judge its strength, to challenge its power. He felt it awaken from its slumber, responding to his call. Perfect.

He allowed himself to spend the night with Vexen, who had now grown very quiet, lying flush against the Academic's back with his hands on his shoulders so as not to touch the grotesque bulge. Marluxia comforted himself with the fact that it would not sully Vexen's once-pretty figure for much longer as he whispered hollow nothings to his stricken lover, well into the night.

 

\---

 

The meeting had been an unusually long one, Xemnas waxing even more poetic than Marluxia thought him capable of, and in every second that ticked past he could feel Vexen's parasite in his periphery senses, biding its time. Marluxia wondered how intelligent it was, whether it knew that he could not make the first move, or if perhaps it just liked the cosy safety of Vexen's body too much to come out and fight. But it was certainly restless: Marluxia didn't need to utilise any of his special abilities to see how much Vexen was struggling to control his "daughter" as it twitched and fidgeted inside him.

_Come on, you foul creature_ , Marluxia found himself thinking, as Xemnas droned on about the increasing urgency of their projects and execution of their plans; _Come out and face me_. A powerful adversary, a public audience - what more could the Heartless want?

And just as Xemnas was dropping in a footnote about Vexen and his so-called pregnancy, the Academic let out a blood-curdling cry and out from his body exploded a monster every bit as grotesque as Marluxia had imagined, slithering bloodstained to the floor and unfolding its many insectoid limbs until it had grown so large it was almost impossible to imagine it compressed into Vexen's body.

Marluxia was ready. His scythe was in his hand in the blink of his eye, his feet pushing him away from the great tower of his throne, every inch of his body tense in preparation for battle. And by the everloving Darkness, was he going to enjoy killing the parasite who had devastated Vexen's body and ruined his mind.

And as his thoughts narrowed to focus on his enemy alone, already blocking its first attack, Marluxia heard a familiar voice shrieking "Kill it! _Kill it_!" before the others carted Vexen off to stop his very life force seeping from the gaping hole in his stomach.

The Heartless was strong, certainly, and it seemed to have absorbed some of Vexen's powers during its period of incubation: but Marluxia had the advantage; it was young, still clumsily tripping over its own tail and rarely achieving sufficient accuracy to do Marluxia critical damage. He was merciless, striking it again and again with every attack and spell he knew, relishing in its every howl of pain or fury as he found its blind spots, swept his scythe across chinks in its armour, reduced it to a thrashing, caged animal trapped by thorny vines and tormented by razor-sharp petals. It even suffered a damaging electrocution from Larxene, but Marluxia shouted her away. This beast was his and his alone. The others could watch from their stands, but he was the gladiator in the arena, just the way he liked it best. And what a perfect arena it was, perfect to trap the Heartless against the marble floor, perfect to slice right through its heavy armour, to obliterate it once and for all with one last curving sweep of his scythe.

Time seemed to slow as it cried out one last time, then fell, the darkness pouring from its body, dissipating, leaving Marluxia with nothing but Vexen's blood splashed liberally across the chamber from the Heartless' wild movements, juxtaposed quite prettily against his delicate, fluttering blossoms.

It was only when the fog of assassination began to clear that Marluxia finally looked up at his spectators, still bolted to their seats. What was he seeking? Applause, perhaps? But instead Xemnas looked at him coldly and said in his usual monotone;

"You acted out of place, Eleven."

Marluxia met his eyes, hating the extent to which he had to crane his neck just to see his elevated Superior.

"I eliminated the threat."

Xemnas raised his eyebrows, the closest to a display of emotion he ever came.

"That Heartless would have been a useful tool under the Organisation's command."

"Its parent still runs loose through the worlds," Marluxia said defiantly. "You are more than welcome to capture more offspring for the Organisation, but next time make sure it doesn't use my _partner_ as a host."

He slipped out through a portal before Xemnas could respond. There would definitely be repercussions to his open defiance, not to mention his blatant reference to his relationship with Vexen. No matter how transparent their façades were, nobody ever spoke so plainly - so _emotionally_ \- of the Organisation's small alliances to Xemnas' face. But Marluxia couldn't bring himself to care.

Vexen was unconscious when Marluxia found him, resting in his quarters with bandages around his midriff and Lexaeus and Zexion watching over him with careful eyes. The colour had drained from his face - no wonder, since most of his blood seemed to currently be splattered over the Place Where Nothing Gathers - but he was in one piece again, even snoring slightly as he slept.

"You know," Zexion said as Marluxia hurried over to Vexen's sleeping body, "He's lucky he had Second Chance equipped, or else the Heartless would have destroyed him. He was down to his last health point when we pulled him out."

"He had prior warning."

"The Superior will be furious."

"I'm still too valuable to him to be dismissed so easily."

Zexion sighed.

"But the same cannot be said for Vexen. And since you so publicly defended him, he knows he can use that against you." Gossip moved fast in this castle, indeed. And the small man turned away, more interested in arranging glowing bottles of potion for Vexen. "It did more harm than good to heed Vexen's wishes, Marluxia. You should not act so irrationally."

For this advice, Marluxia had no comment. So instead he asked a question of his own.

"But surely he means something to you? You and Lexaeus have been at his side since this whole ordeal began."

Zexion shrugged idly.

"Xemnas' orders. The Heartless piqued his interest from the outset." But then something in his expression softened. "But contrary to his beliefs, Lexaeus and I hold the view that Vexen still has much to offer the Organisation. As much as the Superior thinks we know all of the heart's mysteries, we've barely scratched the surface. And Vexen is an excellent researcher."

Marluxia watched Vexen's chest rise and fall, the scientist looking so helpless in his injured state. He didn't look like an excellent anything with his face so ashen.

"I take it his personality has reverted to its former state?"

"From the way he was acting before he passed out, we can assume so, yes."

Marluxia nodded, standing. There was nothing more for him to do here: Vexen was in safe hands. He needed some time to recuperate from his own (rather shorter and less physically damaging) battle.

"Good."

 

\---

 

A few days passed, and good news came in the form of reports that Vexen was making a rapid recovery from his recent ordeal. Marluxia, however, remained on edge for entirely different reasons: Xemnas had not forgotten the incident in the Place Where Nothing Gathers, and had personally put him at the head of a team sent to track down the parasite's mother and return it alive to the World That Never Was. His only solace from that punishment was that Vexen - as the resident expert - was also on the team, and exploration could not commence until he was back to his usual self.

Disliking the rumours abounding in the Grey Room, Marluxia receded into his garden during every moment he could spare from his missions, tending to his ever-evolving collection of flora, knowing that it could do nothing to harm him. And this was where he was when Vexen came to find him, once again a tall, slender man with a flat stomach and a secret aggression hidden behind his eyes.

"Marluxia."

"It's good to see you again, Vexen."

Vexen pulled up a chair - one with a rather fetching cushion - and sat down next to Marluxia, who was pulling up weeds from an embryonic flowerbed.

"Don't do that. You'll dent the grass."

Vexen did not move.

"Pah."

So Marluxia was forced to stand and lead Vexen back onto the patio, where he had a dusk serve them tea, so when they made small talk it would not be to the detriment of his precious lawn.

"I would bore you with the logistics of the infection," Vexen began, stirring milk into his cup, "But I'm sure you would prefer not to hear of the gruesome details, especially since it is this very foe we will have to face in due course. Thanks," he added snidely, "To your oversight."

" _My_ oversight? I hasten to mention that it was _you_ who was screaming at me to destroy the parasite,"

"Can you blame me?" Vexen scoffed. "It stole my body, even my mind - of course I wanted it dead. You, however, had no reason to eliminate it. Did you?"

Marluxia preferred not to answer. It was those very questions that kept him from socialising with the others in the Grey Room. Why had he been so quick to kill the Heartless? So _eager_ to do so, even? He clearly remembered the relish with which he had taken it down - but explaining his actions was not so easy.

"I do have one question, however." Vexen continued, realising that Marluxia wasn't going to humour him with an excuse. "You knew the nature of the parasite. You wanted it out of me. Why didn't you act before? Surely you weren't actually obeying Zexion's suggestion..."

"You wouldn't let me anywhere near you, or your precious "daughter". I planned to wait until Lexaeus and Zexion extracted it, and destroy it later. It wasn't until they bothered to tell me that such a move would kill you that I realised that more drastic actions were required."

Vexen nodded, satisfied.

"And one other thing. Before we gladly forget this entire episode."

"Yes?"

" _You would go to significant lengths to defend me_?”

And Marluxia, the charismatic, effortless actor, faltered for just a second too long before he said;

"Oh, come on, it was all just part of the act. I had to get you to trust me."

Vexen seemed to forgive Marluxia his poor lie, looking away at the beautiful garden laid out before him.

"Of course."

And then he smiled.

" _Partner_."

 


End file.
